


we’ll build our altar here

by my_mind_is_racing



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Rivalry, Gryffindor/Slytherin Inter-House Relationships, House Rivalries, More characters and relationships to be added later, Original Female Character - Freeform, Slow Burn, Slytherin!OC, You Have Been Warned, also DONT depend on me finishing this, anyway, bc I know myself and how I am, but I do have it all planned out, e2l, i want to, kenna alcane, more tags to come too, not Fred x reader, oc is, so I can’t promise I will finish, so there’s that, takes them a while to get together, the rating might change but idk for sure, they’re dumb in love, yeah - Freeform, you know the drill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:28:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26694511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_mind_is_racing/pseuds/my_mind_is_racing
Summary: this is as good a place to fall as anywill you build our altar here?**main pairing is fred weasley and a slytherin female original character**
Relationships: Angelina Johnson/George Weasley, Fred Weasley/Original Female Character(s), Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> please, all I ask, is that you enjoy and don’t hold your breath on this story’s completion. I have it all planned out in my head, but I know myself and i wouldn’t count on it, as much as I’d like to. 
> 
> title comes from the song “bedroom hymns” by florence + the machine. multichap, slow burn, lots of angst, e2l. good luck, have fun :))

His hands were cold.

They were never cold.

Like ice tracing the curve of her cheek, Kenna closes her eyes and allows them to linger there. His hands were never cold, nor have they ever been this shaky before.

War does not wait.

War targets more than just the wicked. 

War does not make time for tragic goodbyes.

A tear escapes her. It rolls down her cheek, heavy with heartbreak, but also something else. Something more. 

Content. There is no better word for it. 

Fred reaches to swipe the tear away, a storm of his own cascading past the barriers of his pretty long lashes. His lips are moving, shivering in some broken apology.

She shakes her head, smiles, and closes her eyes. 

His trembling fingers stroke her hair back from her face. They leave a trail of ice in their wake. It reminds her, in this moment, of the time she’s spent ruining and loving and living her life. 

Her eyes remain closed.

Her vision goes white. 

_this is as good a place to fall as any—_  
_we will build our altar here._


	2. where we start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> introducing my OC and her history with Fred Weasley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> something I was really aiming to convey with this work and this character is shedding light on the slytherin side of the Harry Potter story without making them out to be saints who can do no wrong. I basically just wanted to show that both sides contributed to the rivalry and the stereotypes. So as you read, I hope you can both see where she’s coming from but also pick up on the fact that’s she’s not perfect and could have handled some things better! 
> 
> enjoy! :))

The bright, early afternoon sun shone down harshly on the fifth year students through the windows of the Charms classroom. There was not a single cloud in the sky to help block out the shimmering streams of sunlight and all over the class Slytherins and Gryffindors could be seen trying their hardest to avoid it’s blinding light. Due to this, shadows were cast all across the walls, providing slight relief to those who were lucky enough to be seated away from the windows. 

Kenna, unfortunately, is not one of the few.

With another groan, she slumps her head lazily onto her desk, Flitwick’s voice slowly fading into background noise. His words are becoming increasingly unintelligible, growing hazy around the edges. 

She’s just about to slip into the sweet escape of sleep when something pelts softly against her forehead. Her eyes open, a glare automatically set in her irises. They zero in across the room to where she knows the paper came from, seeing as it  _ always  _ comes from there. 

Two sets of brown eyes find hers all too easily. If they cared about keeping it a secret they would have just given themselves away, but alas, their eyes shine with too much mischief to be concerned with such thoughts. 

‘ _ Wake up, sleepy-head, _ ’ One of them mouthed, whom Kenna knew to be George, eliciting a laugh from his brother. 

‘ _ Rise and shine, _ ’ Fred smirked in response, muted giggles falling from his lips to match his brother’s. 

Rolling her eyes, the Slytherin replies, ‘ _ Bugger off, weasels. _ ’

They grin at each other, shit eating smirks that make her want to hex it right off their faces. Rolling her eyes, she tries her best to ignore them, but every time Flitwick turns his back, another balled up piece of parchment is thrown her way. She’s just about ready to grab her wand and do some damage of her own, but luckily for her, she doesn’t need to. 

“Mister Weasley,” Professor Flitwick announces upon catching the two in the act of throwing another paper ball across the room. 

“Yes?” They both reply in unison, causing Kenna to roll her eyes at their dramatics. 

Flitwick does the same and clears his throat, having transferred the rest of the class’ attention to the Gryffindor boys. “Why must you two always be a distraction in my classroom?”

George shrugs, his grin never faltering as his brother swiftly answers, “If it makes you feel any better, we’re a distraction in every class.”

The professor sighs. “It doesn’t.”

Kenna snorts, unable to contain her amusement as the two boys get scolded for acting like the children they are. This seems to catch the attention of her professor as he switches victims, his tired eyes landing directly on the teenager.

“Miss Alcane,” He inquires, his eyebrows arched in curiosity, frown still visible under his facial hair. “Something funny?”

Her cold blue irises widen in shock from being addressed, her attention no longer on the two gingers across from her. “Wha–”

“ _ Ten points from Slytherin and Gryffindor! _ ” He snaps, to which all students, who belong to one of the two houses themselves, erupt in a chorus of protests. His hand goes to pinch the bridge of his nose in exasperation and silences them all with a wave of his hand. “I will not hear it! The three of you are always arguing and bickering and just generally wreaking havoc inside this classroom and these will be the repercussions until you learn to control yourselves!”

Silence falls over the room, glares and mumbled words of spite reach their way to her ears. Students all around the class are pouting, arms crossed like petulant children at having been docked points. Kenna can feel the way people glare holes into her skull, but she just scoffs, unable to find it within herself to care who dislikes her and who doesn’t. 

Finally, with one last sigh of exhaustion, Flitwick spares a glance up to the clock on his wall and his shoulders sag in relief. “Class is dismissed, you all may go.”

Gryffindors and Slytherins alike groan and grumble as they irritably shove their textbooks and other belongings into their bags. They exit with a slightly more prominent downturn of their lips than when they came. 

Shrugging, too disinterested to worry about the feelings of her peers, Kenna makes her way out of the classroom to find solace in the library until her next class. Though it seems some deity has it out for her today, as she is hardly able to step five feet out of the classroom before a certain set of twins are on her toes… 

“Wow, Alcane, you really did it this time,” Fred snickers behind her, craning his neck out just enough for his words to reverberate in her ears. 

“Flitwick finally snapped,” George added and Kenna doesn’t even have to look to know they’re grinning, she can hear it in their voices. “And here I thought you’d go easy on him for once. How rude of you to not give the poor bloke a break–”

She stopped, turning completely around to glare daggers into their chocolate eyes. “Oh  _ please _ , everyone knows that if anything, he’s just sick and tired of all the bullshit you two throw around like  _ quaffles _ –”

“Oh, c’mon, love,” Fred shakes his head as Kenna crosses her arms over her chest, her teeth biting down onto her tongue in an attempt to refrain from jinxing them right now. “Everyone knows we’re beaters.”

The girl scoffs, entirely unimpressed. “Oh, I’m sorry, I must have been busy with my million other better things to think about to notice.”

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Fred chimes back in a sing-song voice, obviously enjoying their little squabble much more than his companion. “You and I both know you love me.”

His cheeky grin does nothing to calm her down, instead having the entirely opposite effect. “I  _ loathe _ you; I’d rather try and tame the squid in the black lake than spend more than two seconds in your presence.”

“Then I suppose all is well,” Fred nudges George with his elbow, seemingly happy with her reaction and Kenna growls, seething in vexation. 

“Whatever, Weasley,” She spits, turning to continue her walk to her intended destination. “Don’t trip on your way down the stairs.”

“As if we could,” Fred grins as she storms away, her emerald robes swishing gracefully behind her.   


**•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•**

_ Her broom was held steady in her hands as she flew around the pitch. The wind ran its delicate fingers through her wild hair, which had come out of its ponytail and now dances behind her as she moves. A multitude of screams and shouts fill her ears, students raving and waving their support around for one team or the other. There were cries of encouragement and some of displeasure coming from the red and green parts of the crowd.  _

_ Kenna’s own green quidditch robes raked across her body as she sent another bludger towards a Gryffindor chaser with an aggressive swing. Even this far into the game, this earns a round of gasps from the stands, people still seeming to be shocked at how strong this twelve year-old girl can be. Her secret; it stems from anger.  _

_ Her hit lands and the chaser who was carrying the quaffle over to their side stumbles, almost falling off his broom. He drops the ball, allowing for her team to catch it. They take it all the way over and throw it through the ring to make ten more points. One glance at the current score puts a smile on her face, as she takes this quick second to put her hair back up.  _

_ It seems she took a moment too long, as before she knows it, a bludger is headed straight to her. Kenna barely has enough time to dodge it and the ball continues until it hits the sides of the stands, causing it to splinter and crack apart.  _

_ She whips her head around for the source, finding two grinning red-heads, both laughing at the result.  _

_ “That’s for Cade, Alcane!” One of them shouts, though she’s too far away to discern which one. She doesn’t care much though, they’re both nuisances.  _

_ Her mouth opens, ready to argue and maybe pound in their arrogant faces, but her fellow beater slides up next to her, putting his hand warningly on her shoulder.  _

_ “Leave them,” he says, taking a second to glare at them himself. “You wanna get your payback, take out the keeper, or maybe the seeker. They can’t defend themselves.” _

_ She hesitates, her eyes wandering over to the players indicated by her partner, wondering if it was right to attack someone unprepared. However, this didn’t last long as one more look over to the Weasleys smirking smugly in her direction made up her mind.  _

_ She nods and with her bat, hits the bludger coming towards her as hard as she can over to the Gryffindor seeker, imagining the bludger as one of their faces. She watches with baited breath as it zips across the pitch, just barely reaching its intended target.  _

_ The seeker whose name she’s yet to remember, some seventh year she’s never spoken to before, is launched off his broom. For a moment, Kenna worries he’s going to fall all the way down. Thankfully, he gathers his wits quickly enough to grasp at his broom, dangling off of it like a monkey.  _

_ There’s applause from the sea of green behind her, students cheering and clapping at the turn of events. Kenna even hears small chants of her name coming from a few of them, eagerly praising her hit. Her partner, Marcus, nods to her in approval and satisfaction, a tiny smirk playing at his features.  _

_ Meanwhile, from the other side of the pitch, people are furious. Screaming and screeching, a series of insults and protests are thrown towards them, students in red booing from their apparent discontent.  _

_ The Weasleys in particular look completely disgusted with her, their usually playful eyes riddled in judgement and disappointment. Kenna doesn’t wait around for them to do so, instead flying back around to protect a chaser from one of their bludgers. They seem to take the hint, either that or they just stop glaring at her, as they fly over to help the seeker back onto his broom.  _

_ The game doesn’t go on for much longer after that. A few points are scored on both ends, but Slytherin pulls through after their seeker gets his hands on the snitch. Their fellow housemates erupt in celebration, jumping up and down and rubbing it in the faces of their opponents.  _

_ Much to their defense, the Gryffindor Team takes the defeat surprisingly well. They don’t utter a single word of complaint as they make their way back to the showers, but Kenna can hear a few unkindly words said in her image as they exit. Her captain’s victory speech is muffled as she tunes him out, turning over thoughts in her crowded head.  _

_ Had she gone too far with that bludger? Had that really been necessary? True it’s the point of the game, but so many people seemed repulsed by it, she wonders if she really  _ had _ to do it.  _

_ When their post-match meeting finishes and she’s showered and changed into her casual clothes, she exits the tent to see Marcus there waiting for her. He’s leaning against the tent, his brunette hair almost as dark as his shadow below him and his arms crossed.  _

_ Marcus is only two years older than her, and he’s been fairly supportive of her since she gained her position, despite her being so young. He’s even taken to tutoring her of a sort, sharing with her different plays and strategies no one else has bothered to. She liked him well enough, but it’s not often that they have one-on-one conversations like this and her interest piques.  _

_ “Alcane,” He greets respectfully when she nears him, looking rather odd in his weekend attire, seeing as she’s only ever seen him in uniform; school and quidditch wise.  _

_ “Simone,” Kenna acknowledges, coming to a stop in front of him. “Is something the matter?” _

_ Marcus towers over her and Kenna is left in his shadow as he clears his throat, waiting as he seems to mull over his words. “You shouldn’t hesitate.” He finally replies, stern and so sure.  _

_ Kenna frowns, not quite understanding what the simple sentence meant. “What?” _

_ “You shouldn’t hesitate,” he repeats, somehow even more confident than before. He nods as if to assure her. “In quidditch. It’s just a game and it’s what you’re supposed to do. You did well, too. It distracted both the twins and got their seeker out of commission long enough for ours to find the snitch. It was a good play. Rogers thought so, too. Even mentioned it, but you weren’t paying attention.” _

_ The second year’s mouth snaps shut, a light going off in her brain. Of course he wanted that to happen, he was just using her vexation with the Weasleys to teach her strategy. Still, she has to admit it was clever, good incentive, too, and she can’t find it in herself to be upset. He could have done it himself, but instead he opted to teach her.  _

_ It was selfless of him, she thought.  _

_ “Well,” Kenna nods in appreciation, squaring her shoulders. “Thanks for letting me instead of doing it yourself.” _

_ Marcus smirks at this, feeling proud that she’d realized his true intentions for doing what he did. He shrugs, nonchalantly. “Yeah well, quite a few of us are going to be leaving soon. Might as well get the younger ones ready for when that happens.” _

_ “I appreciate it,” she concedes, to which he offers the slimmest of smiles.  _

_ Suddenly a noise steals both their attention away, their eyes drifting over to where a group of Gryffindor girls are discussing the match.  _

_ “We should have won!” The blonde one says, pouting to herself at their loss.  _

_ One of the two brunettes nod in agreement. “Definitely. I mean, we would have if that stupid beater wouldn’t have hit that last bludger!” _

_ “Yeah, how rude was that?” The other huffs, her nose sticking up into the air pointedly. “Seems like foul play if you ask me.” _

_ Kenna frowns, her nose wrinkling in unease. She has half a mind to go set them straight, and she would have if it weren’t for her own doubts about the exact same thing.  _

_ Marcus seems to sense this and he taps on her shoulder, drawing her blue eyes back to his brown ones. “Hey don’t listen to them–” _

_ “Why not?” Kenna rebuts, shaking her head solemnly. “Aren’t they right?” _

_ “The Gryffindors? Of course not!” Marcus laughs at this, as if the very idea is absurd. “Look, they're just upset that they lost. What you did was a perfectly good play, and even if it wasn’t, who cares about what they think anyway?” _

_ Kenna still looks away, taking her bottom lip between her teeth and Marcus sighs. “Look, we’re not the bad guys here, Kenna.” _

_ The uncommon use of her first name causes her to finally look up at him again, doubt strewn across her features. “Really? Because it really sounds like, according to everyone else at least, that that’s exactly what we are.” _

_ Marcus stares her down, all signs of amusement gone from his eyes. “They just need someone to judge,” Marcus scowls, his tone dripping with venom. “They all just need someone who they think is worse than them. They’re self-righteous, all of them, thinking that they’re better than us just because we get things done and don’t subscribe to the exact same morals they do. They need someone to make them feel better about themselves.” _

_ Kenna still looks unsure and Marcus reaches to cup both her shoulders, turning her to face him again. “Think about it this way; if it were a Hufflepuff who hit that bludger, do you think it would cause this much of an uproar?” Kenna only has to mull this over for a quick second because the answer is obvious; no, it wouldn’t. “If it was a Ravenclaw, do you think everyone would be this foul about the game? What about if a Gryffindor did the same to us? Do you think the other houses would even  _ care _ this much?” _

_ Without taking time for a second thought, Kenna shakes her head. At this conclusion, resentment begins to linger in her stomach, almost like bile in her throat. She realizes that if it were the other way around, almost everyone in the other houses would probably feel  _ good _ about it, and that infuriates her.  _

_ “Alcane,” Marcus continues, seeing the fire spark in her eyes and using that as reason to finish. “Everyone thinks we’re the bad guys, because if they treat us like it…” Her eyes catch those of the Weasley twins as they come out from their tent, distrust and disappointment written all over their faces as they walk past. “We’re gonna act like it.” _

**•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•**

Kenna tapped a rhythm into her desk as she waited for her Transfiguration exam to be passed back. McGonagall likes to do them by hand so as not to allow other students to peek unnecessarily at their classmates’ scores. But unfortunately for Kenna, she’s been attending Hogwarts for going on five years now and the waiting still isn’t any less nerve-wrecking. Especially considering, of all her classes, Transfiguration is one of the hardest for her. 

A loud cheer sounds towards the back of the classroom and Kenna turns around just in time to catch Fred Weasley pumping a fist into the air. He smiles proudly to himself as he beams down at his parchment and it takes restraint not to roll her eyes at his dramatics. 

He looks up then, his eyes scanning the class until they land on her and he smirks. Kenna faces the front again as Fred begins to make his way over to her. It’s a rare sight to see him without his other half, but their schedules are not the exact same, and he attends this class without the company of his brother. Truthfully, she thinks they did it on purpose to give themselves a break. 

“Oh Alcane~” The Weasley chirps as he comes to take the empty seat beside her. Kenna scoffs, trying her hand at ignoring him completely, but when Fred wants to be recognized, he’ll be recognized. 

Without word, Fred plops his exam onto her desk and Kenna sits on her hand so as not to immediately shove it off. Instantly, her eyes catch on the thick  _ E _ at the top of his parchment and looks back up to see the Gryffindor grinning with pride. 

Her eyebrow arches, unamused with his attempt of teasing. “What am I supposed to do with this? Throw it back into the waste bin?”

Fred laughs and it bothers Kenna immensely to know that none of her insults can truly get to him. “No. I just wanted to show you that I got an  _ Exceeds _ on this exam.”

“And why on earth would you want to do that?” She questions, picking at the nonexistent stain on her robes. “I sincerely hope that I didn’t give you the impression that I care, Weasley.”

“Oh, you definitely didn’t.” 

“Then why are you showing it to me?”

“Because I know it’ll annoy you,” He grins cheekily, his cheeks protruding and rounding like apples as the girl bristles in her seat. “But also because a little birdie told me that you weren’t exactly looking forward to this exam in particular and I just wanted to show you how  _ I _ did.”

If looks could kill, Fred is sure he’d be six feet under. “A little birdie, huh?” Kenna reiterates, wondering if he’s telling the truth or somehow just picked the exact right words to get her riled up. 

He nods, seemingly content with the red, anger induced flush of her face. “Sure was. It also told me that there weren’t very many people to get a higher score than this.” He gestures to his exam, the big  _ E _ sitting obnoxiously on top of it, mocking her. 

“Well,  _ Weasley _ , I’m sure that birdie of yours was simply trying to stroke your ego, seeing as everybody knows that you couldn’t  _ possibly– _ ”

“Alcane,” McGonagall interrupts, handing the girl in question a face down parchment with a small smile. “Well done.”

She takes it from her swiftly, immediately flipping it over to examine her previous work. Deciding to ignore the lack of marks on the body of the exam, Kenna skips straight to the top, where she knew her score would be. 

A big, stunning  _ O _ is nestled neatly in the corner by her name, bringing the most triumphant grin to her lips. 

“Not a lot of people, aye Weasley?” The boy frowns, eyebrows furrowed as she turns her exam around for him to see. “Must be some mistake.”

Irritation burns in his irises for only a moment before he shrugs it off, his easy smile returning. “Good job, Alcane.  _ Outstanding _ is very impressive.”

“I know.”

“Maybe this time you can convince everyone that it’s actually  _ real _ .”

Kenna glowers at the boy, a scowl turning the corner of her lips down in hostility. “Shove it, Weasley. You have no room to talk, what’s this? Your first  _ E _ ?”

Fred smirks, happy to have gotten through and glances behind him to where their classmates are exiting the room. “Looks like we missed the cue. See you later, love.”

He winks and Kenna swears that one day, she’ll strangle him. 

**•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•**  


_ The trees stand tall as the class filters around the forest clearing, allowing for fractured rays of sunlight to shine through. The vivid hue of the greenery elicited a small smile from Kenna as she basked in the warmth the day brought.  _

_ Collecting her books, she walked over to where Professor Kettleburn was ending class. Taking her spot next to her roommate with a nod of acknowledgement, she strains to hear what he’s saying from all the background chatter.  _

_ “...so make sure you bring your quills to our next class, because I won’t be handing any out–” _

_ “But Professor,” Lee Jordan calls out, successfully interrupting his announcement. “Gryffindor has a match against Ravenclaw this weekend! Can’t the exam wait until next week?” _

_ Kenna snorts, amazed that he’d even ask. As far as Kettleburn is concerned, all Quidditch players do is throw a ball around, nothing to postpone an exam for.  _

_ She’s proved right when Kettleburn sighs and replies, “No, I’m afraid not Mister Jordan. I’m sure you and the players can multitask, hm?” _

_ Lee frowns, but quickly receives comfort in the form of the twins, each of them giving him a small pat on the back. Meanwhile, Kenna frowns. If something that little can dampen his spirits then he obviously needs to learn how to stop asking ridiculous questions.  _

_ “...no exceptions. Class is dismissed.” _

_ The students collectively sigh with the new information, displeased about having to study for another exam. Selene, Kenna’s roommate, tugs on her robes, nodding over to the castle which she’s made no move towards.  _

_ “In a minute,” Kenna assures, motioning to their professor. “I wanna talk to Kettleburn for a moment.” _

_ “About the test?” The blonde asked, her head tilting in confusion.  _

_ “Yeah, just the material,” The girl confirms, adjusting the strap on her back pack. “Just want to make sure I’m studying the right things.” _

_ Selene purses her lips in doubt and looks over her roommate’s shoulder to see Kettleburn speaking with their classroom bowtruckle. Her brown eyes spark with realization and she nods. “Okay, then I’ll see you in the library?” _

_ “Yep.”  _

_ With a nod and a knowing look, Selene waves her off and heads back up to the castle. Once making sure she was gone, Kenna makes her way over to where Professor Kettleburn was tending to the creature.  _

_ “How is he today?” She asks when he’s within earshot to hear her.  _

_ Kettleburn only spares a glance behind him as he continues to inspect the creature. “He’s doing better. I’m really glad you caught the fungus infection before it got too far the other day.” _

_ If bowtruckles could nod, Kenna’s sure that he did. It waves it’s hello, long limbs extending in greeting. A chuckle escapes from her lips as she pulls out a clasped container from her bag.  _

_ “I brought some woodlice for him since you said you ran out yesterday, Professor.”  _

_ “Oh thank you!” Kettleburn grins as Kenna sets the now opened container down next to the bowtruckle, Teak. “You didn’t have to do that, Kenna.” _

_ A grin makes its way onto her face as Teak wastes no time to begin shoving his food into his mouth. “I know,” She shrugs, squatting to be level with Teak. “But I figured he’d be hungry for something other than leaves.” _

_ Teak does his best to make an oval with his hands and points to his mouth, causing Kenna to roll her eyes. “No, Teak, I’m not getting you fairy eggs.” This makes the bowtruckle frown, halting in his eating to stare up at her with what can only be taken as a pout. “Aleena would call for my head if I even so much as thought about that.” _

_ This doesn’t seem to placate Teak much and Kettleburn sighs at the creature. “We’ve talked about this. We aren’t going to pick sides between you two.” _

_ With a pointed look from Kenna, Teak thankfully appears to let it go. She releases a satisfied breath and glances over to the tree she knows is filled with mirrors along it’s trunk.  _

_ Kenna gestures toward the tree, catching her professor’s attention. “Speaking of, she doing okay? I didn’t see her in class.” _

_ Kettleburn nods, albeit with a regretful look in his eye that’s not covered by an eyepatch. “She’ll be fine,” He assures, tucking a strand of his white hair out of his face. “Severus needed some more fairy wings for his potion supply so I had to harvest them.” _

_ Her face falls, now knowing exactly why the bright and energetic fairy had stowed away in her tree. “She’s embarrassed.” Kenna supplies, knowing that fairies hate to be without their wings. _

_ “Yep,” Kettleburn confirmed, shaking his head as if he were ashamed himself. “Didn’t want to do it to her, but it’s in the job. It’s the only reason she gets to stay, y’know?” _

_ “I know,” Comes her easy reply and she glances over to the tree she knows the fairy is hiding in. “Maybe I should go–” _

_ “–sorry, Professor, but I forgot my book by the–” _

_ A head of unfortunately familiar red hair comes jogging back up the path to the classroom, a shameless smirk resting on his face. However, that smirk seems to drop and is instead replaced by a confused frown upon seeing the Slytherin still present after class. Kenna’s shocked to see the Gryffindor, not having expected anyone to come back.  _

_ No one ever comes back after class and that’s what the third year had always counted on. After spending three years at Hogwarts, she’s become far too used to being villainized for simply wearing the color green. She’d even heard snide remarks about signing up for Care of Magical Creatures at all, people assuming she’d have much more fun in some other class than spending time with the creatures. She heard insults and objections from a multitude of people, each claiming that she’d cheat or even scare some of the animals with her short temperament.  _

_ Things had only escalated when she appeared to excel in the subject. Every exam they took was given back to her with an ‘O’ and all the creatures seemed to like her so much more than the precious Gryffindors who tried so hard. The worst part was that she didn’t have to try and that was common knowledge. So, she started helping Kettleburn out after class. It was the only way she could even interact with the creatures without being accused of smearing honey on her hand to make them like her or some other variation of cheating. Though, she knew that if anyone aside from Selene ever found out it would only make the rumors worse.  _

_ And finally, after almost an entire year, it had to be Fred Weasley of all people to catch her.  _

_ The next day she woke up to exactly what she expected. A string of insults and jabs at her pride, her hobby. Most of them were Gryffindors, but there were a few Ravenclaws and a Hufflepuff or two that took the chance to belittle her, too.  _

_ “I knew she wasn’t that good.”  _

_ “She was only bribing the animals.” _

_ “I heard she was bribing Kettleburn. You know, getting on his good side and making herself look innocent.” _

_ “I knew it wasn’t actually you,” A Ravenclaw spits at her, with his Gryffindor friend behind him. “You never had to study or even try. Really, you made it obvious!” _

_ “Then why didn’t  _ you _ figure it out, hm?” Kenna rolls her eyes, his ignorant words not bothering her quite yet. “And sooner?” _

_ The Ravenclaw sputtered, offended. “I wasn’t just going to accuse a student without proof!” _

_ “Wow,” She whistles, flipping another page of her book, ignoring the stares she’s getting from her fellow classmates. Why were there so many people in the courtyard right  _ now _? “So you actually have brain cells? Well, color me surprised.” _

_ “Oh, shove it, Alcane,” The Gryffindor barks now, unamused by the smirk lifting her lips. “Stop playing dumb, we know what happened. Weasley told us what he saw!” _ _  
_

_ She slams her book closed, rising angrily to her feet. The two boys are startled by the sudden movement, but to their defence, they don’t back down when she looks them in the eye. A small tremble maybe, but they push it away.  _

_ Kenna crosses her arms, tired of their nonsense. “Oh, he did, did he?” They nod and Kenna bites back a smirk at the cautiousness coming off of them in waves. “Now, what was that exactly?” _

_ “He told us how Kettleburn barely addresses you in class, but when he went back to get his book yesterday you looked like good mates.” _

_ She snorts. “That proves nothing,” _

_ “Maybe not,” The lion shrugs, however still relentless in his pursuit to prove her wrong. His temper’s flaring, his words more purposeful, more malicious. “But that’s not all, is it, Alcane? You never study for the class, yet you always have the top marks. The animals gravitate toward you even when you just stand there, the rest of us be damned.” _

_ “What can I say?” She snarls, his attitude grinding on her last nerves. “They must be good judges of character.” _

_ He shakes his head at her, like a parent correcting their child. “Are they?” The Ravenclaw is more supporting  _ him _ now, glaring at her from behind his shoulder. “Come on, Alcane. All you ever do is glare and belittle and judge anyone who isn’t a Slytherin like you. Everyone here knows that you’d love to watch this place burn.” _

_ He’s wrong, she knows he is. If she really despised this place with all she had, he’d know about it, everyone would. But listening to him now, spitting out insults and complaints and accusations, she’s really considering it.  _

_ “Is that an invitation?” Kenna muses, scaring him slightly with her quick response, almost instinctual. She knows he can see the gleam in her eye, the gleam that says he may get what he wants if he pushes too far.  _

_ He scoffs, even if she can see the way his stare wavers under hers. “You would take it as one, wouldn’t you?” _

_ Kenna’s had it and she’s just about to pull out her wand and show him exactly how lethal she can be, when a pair of strong arms wiggle their way between the two of them. The body they belong to pushes them apart and a tall figure steps in front of her, holding her back behind him.  _

_ She doesn’t even have to guess who it is. The dark hair, tall stature, broad shoulders, and probably most importantly, the green hood. After three years, Kenna knows him like the back of her hand. The two of them may not gossip and spill secrets in the quiet of night in the common room, blanketed by the luminescent green lights and low hanging candles, but Kenna is sure that, if anyone, he’s her best friend. She may not brag to him whenever she gets a good mark or makes a particularly nice move in a match, but he undoubtedly knows her better than anyone at this school.  _

_ She likes to think that goes both ways.  _

_ “Both of you need to calm down,” Marcus announces once the two of them are successfully separated. The Gryffindor glares at her, his friend behind him with crossed arms. It’s only now that Kenna realizes they’ve attracted a crowd. Students are gathered around them in a circle; Kenna sees robes and ties from every house, students young and old having come to watch them bicker.  _

_ She idly wonders if they have nothing better to do.  _

_ “She started it,” The boy says, trying his best to stand tall over Marcus. He fails pathetically, Marcus doesn’t even have to straighten up and put his shoulders back, his shiny new Prefect badge glimmering in the afternoon sun. Yet still, he does not cower… even if he probably should.  _

_ When Marcus doesn’t move, doesn’t give any reaction, the Gryffindor scoffs. He nods his head, more to himself than to anyone else. “But that doesn’t mean anything to you, does it?” The boy looks at his fellow classmates, gesturing to the older boy in front of him. “Figures.” _

_ “I think,” Marcus licks his lips, leveling the Gryffindor with a hard glare. Oh, if looks could kill… “You need to leave.” _

_ “Or what?” The boy dares, taunting Marcus as best he can. The Prefect’s jaw ticks, a sure sign that his temper is slipping. However, the boy doesn’t seem to notice, or is doing his best to ignore it, at least.  _

_ “We all know that you Slytherins don’t care about the rest of us,” He continues, ignoring the way people stare at him. People in the crowd hold their breath, eagerly awaiting to see what happens next. “Go ahead, just prove me right.” _

_ There’s a hush now, multiple sets of eyes flickering back and forth between the two students. The Gryffindor’s face is flushed red in anger, Marcus not far behind. The boy holds his head high, his chin tipped in defiance. Kenna imagines, in this moment, the onlookers see him as a martyr, however dramatic that may be. She just sees a fool.  _

_ Her hand itches for her wand, itches to make an example of the boy whose voice grates entirely too hard on her nerves. She wants to shut him up, make him understand that they are not to be challenged. Which is why she almost doubles over from shock when Marcus does none of those things. _

_ “Fifteen points from Gryffindor,” He says instead, his tone leaving no room for argument. Complaints erupt from voices in the crowd and the younger boy scowls. “ _ And _ you are to serve detention with me after classes today.” _

_ “On what grounds?” _

_ “You have picked a fight with another student, as well as provoked and attempted to undermine a Prefect.” The Slytherin claims mechanically, without any hint of emotion. “I think you’ll find my grounds adequate enough.” _

_ The boy turns to leave in a rage, throwing one last insult over his shoulder. “And a coward to boot.” _

_ With a glare and Marcus’ placating doing nothing to quell her temper, Kenna turns on her heel to leave. Anywhere is better than here, she decides, where people stare and judge her for things they don’t understand.  _

_ She’s halfway down the corridor when she hears the call of her name, the vowels echoing harshly off the wall in a way that Kenna finds strangely unpleasant. It’s desperate and rushed, as if whatever this person wants to say needs to be said at this moment. However, it’s more so the fact that Kenna recognizes that voice and knows who it belongs to that causes her scowl to deepen.  _

_ “Alcane!” The Weasley calls yet again, jogging to keep up with her fast pace. She doesn’t stop or yield for him and he shouts, “ _ Kenna _!”  _

_ She freezes in place only for a moment before she turns on him, her voice dripping with venom. “What, Weasley? Didn’t do enough damage already? Come to villainize me some more? Make up more lies?” _

_ “I didn’t!” Fred declares sharply, before sighing, not used to trying to sympathize with the likes of her. “Look, I didn’t tell them that you cheat or bribe anyone. I simply told some Gryffindors that you were still there with the creatures when I came back for my things, honest!” _

_ “Yes, well, either way you should know when to keep your bloody mouth shut!” The girl snaps, her patience thinning by the second. “Now do us both a favor and shove off, yeah?” _

_ “Kenna, I’m sorry. I–” _

_ “Don’t call me that.” _

_ Her outburst finally shuts him up, and she gives him one last look of disgust before she’s back on her way. She leaves him there, stranded alone in the middle of the corridor, head downcast and conscience heavy.  _

_ It’s only later, upon Marcus’ return from his Prefect duties when she asks him why he spared the boy. Her friend tells her through sighs that it wasn’t worth it. Besting the boy wasn’t worth his badge and the resulting trouble. He admitted that he gave him enough hell in detention this afternoon, making sure this way that the younger knows he’s not to be tested.  _

_ Marcus advises her to control her temper, no matter how hot it runs. Being a Slytherin is being smart, and being smart is knowing when the risk is worth the trouble. He told her that, if she plays her cards right, there’ll always be another way to punish those who doubt.   
_

**•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•**

Kenna counts each bookshelf she passes as she makes her way towards the center of the library. She’s been through the entire thing enough times to know where the books concentrated on medieval witches are. The figures lounging and whispering in the spaces between become nothing more than blurs as she pays them no mind. They chatter and gossip, each of them, but Kenna couldn’t be bothered with the miniscule secrets and mindless, insignificant details that poured from their lips as a result of a bored mind. The girl continues on. 

She refuses to waste her time with such trivial means. Instead, she likes to drown herself with words. 

However, unfortunately, this is not a hobby trip, as much as she’d like it to be. With Sprout closing the greenhouse for the day and her Herbology class cancelled, Kenna decides to use this free time to get a jump start on her History report. It might not be the most exciting way to spend her rare down time, but she figures planning ahead now will be worth it when her classmates start to rush to complete their own assignments. 

Finally, she stops, ducking into some open space to peer up quizzically at the shelf in front of her. She takes the time to run her finger across the multiple spines of the books available to her. Her eyes skim across the titles, pondering which of them would provide her with the most information she needed.

She’s just about made her decision when she hears a dejected groan from behind her. Out of instinctual curiosity, her head turned, spotting a younger girl struggling to reach a book on the shelf. 

With a sigh and only minimal hesitation, Kenna’s feet drag her over to the girl. She tries not to take in her fiery hair, knowing her history with such people isn’t the best, and reaches up on her tiptoes to grab for the book. Admittedly, she’s not  _ too _ much taller than the girl, but tall enough to reach it and hand the book to her. 

“Here,” She complies, her tone bland and a bit more disinterested than she intended. 

The girl takes it and smiles at her, bubbly blue eyes shining in appreciation. Kenna’s mouth twitches slightly, somewhat unused to allowing the upward curve. However, something about the girl pricks at her and Kenna finds her vaguely familiar. She can’t place her finger on it and the girl opens her mouth to speak. 

“Thank you,” She’s grinning as she takes in the older girl, her smile only slightly faltering at her emerald green tie. 

“No problem, but helpful tip; the book will come to you if you just say it’s name.”

“Really?”

Kenna nods, glancing back over to where her book still sits, her fingers itching to grab it before someone else does. Still, contrary to popular belief, she knows how to be respectful. “Yep, been here enough times to know.”

The young red haired girl bites her lip, sparing a peek up to the shelf. She reaches a hand out, “ _ Greatest Wizards of the Seventeenth Century _ .”

The book in question shakes, knocking into the ones beside it and smoothly extracts itself from the confinement of the shelf. Slowly, it floats gracefully down, directly into her waiting hand. The girl beams, satisfied with the trick. “Cool.”

A chuckle escapes Kenna at this, the girl’s look of astonishment too genuine to be ignored. “I take it you don’t come here often?”

She looks up now and bashfully shakes her head. “Not really, no.” She admits, her cheeks tinting slightly to match her hair. “My first year was… busy, I guess, and I haven’t had too many hard assignments this year, so…” 

“Well, now you know,” She tries for a sweet smile, her efforts thankfully not going unnoticed by the girl. “If you need anymore help, just ask a Prefect. I’m sure you’ll find we have first-hand experience and can aid you with just about anything–”

Before she can finish, two tall figures emerge from the end of the shelf, figures that Kenna unfortunately recognizes. She asks herself how they are always able to know exactly when she can least tolerate them.

The Weasley twins bound over to them, not seeming to notice her presence. Their gazes are zeroed in on the girl in front of her as they begin to near them with long strides. 

“Hey, Gin, you will not believe what Ron just told us!” George grins, having little more respect than his brother for keeping his voice down. 

“It’s bril– Alcane?”

“Weasley,” Kenna acknowledges with a curt nod, trying her best to refrain from scowling. “Might I suggest you keep your voices down? This  _ is _ a library.”

“What are you doing here?” Fred asks, ignoring her statement entirely. 

The girl rolls her eyes, something she’s found is more common around the two of them. “Some of us actually care about our grades, Weasley. Though, I’m sure that must be hard for you to understand.”

“Wait,” The young girl says from between them, her eyes darting back and forth. “Do you three know each other?”

“ _ Do we know each other _ ,” Fred repeats, his tone light and witty. “Of course we do. Georgie and I have known Alcane here since first year when we met.”

“Ah, yes,” Kenna recalls, a sickly sweet smile painting her face, one that looks anything but fond. “If I recall correctly, Weasley, you punched me in the nose–”   


“How many times will I have to tell you it was an accident before you believe me?”

“Oh, I believe you.”

“You do?”

“Mhmm, but it still doesn’t change the fact  _ that it hurt _ –”

“It was four years ago! I said I was sorry,” Fred pouted, George chuckling at his brother’s antics while the girl continues to observe the two of them in confusion. “Besides, you got me back anyway! It took Madam Pomfrey all night to remove those horns–”

**•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•**

_ Kenna pulls at the sleeve of her robes as she walks down the corridor to her next class, blinking furiously in an attempt to keep herself awake. She wonders if staying up that extra hour to get ahead in the Defense lesson was worth her loss of sleep.  _

_ Her feet drag tiredly against the cold stone, her eyes barely able to stay open and her mind tuning out all the unnecessary noises in it’s exhausted state. This, however, proves to not be such a good idea as two young Gryffindors directly in front of her share a rather loud and very animated conversation. Kenna isn’t quite sure what about, seeing as she can hardly hear them through her grogginess, but it apparently has one of them so excited that he begins to gesture wildly with his hands.  _

_ In her rare state of low awareness, Kenna isn’t able to catch onto this in time, as proven by her lack of response when one of their hands come flying back. Unable to dodge it quick enough, the boy’s fist collides harshly with her nose, pain flaring up the nerves in her face. On instinct she goes to grab it, a red, hot liquid which can only be her own blood leaking from the appendage. Her books now lay forgotten on the floor as a string of apologies begin to flood her ears.  _

_ “–Merlin, are you okay? I am so sorry, I didn’t see you there. Crap, you’re bleeding, again I’m sor–” _

_ It’s only then that she lifts her face up to the boy, her eyes quickly catching on his loud red hair. His brown, chestnut colored eyes are filled with guilt as his thin brows knit together with worry. She also doesn’t miss his red and gold tie, something her upperclassmen warned her about. In this moment, for the first time, she can’t help but wonder if they were right.  _

_ Her eyes finally snap back to his, unsurprised to see them in a state of panic, but soon her attention is stolen by something else.  _

_ More eyes.  _

_ Behind this boy, students old and young alike have stopped, their gazes stuck to Kenna like glue. Some people snicker as they walk past with their friends, some stare open-mouthed at this unfortunate series of events, feeling lucky they’re not in her position. Others though, others stop to observe the chaos, their eyes alight with mischief and a twisted kind of happiness born of boredom, insecurity, and Kenna’s own misfortune.  _

_ The barely concealed laughter warms her cheeks in the worst way, though it’s not as if they’re trying to. The heat in her cheeks begin to burn, just as her pride is now, sizzling in a newfound embarrassment. She turns around to escape it all, to run and hide away until all is forgotten, but in doing so, she comes once more to face the small boy who had caused the whole thing.  _

_ He doesn’t seem to notice a thing, either used to such ogling or not being bothered enough to care. Instead, he’s finished blanking and is still looking at her, waiting for some sort of response.  _

_ Well, then a response he shall get.  _

_ “Anteoculatia!” _

_ The words leave her mouth in a haste, each syllable dripping from her tongue like acid. It’s a bit of a tongue twister, not a spell she’s actually used before but for whatever reason it was the first one to come to mind.  _

_ A small spark leaves the tip of her wand, traveling through the air to tangle in his short hair. It’s not even a moment later that antlers begin to sprout from his head.  _

_ His eyes widen comically to the size of dinner plates. Frantically, his hands fly up to poke and prod at them, his brother behind him gobsmacked. Kenna’s nose still bleeds, but at least everyone’s attention diverts from her own mishap.  _

_ Somehow, she thought it’d feel better.  _

_ Suddenly struck with the loss of what to do next, Kenna makes to sneak away. She’s still exhausted and needs to get to class and staying here seems less appealing by the second.  _

_ Before she can, however, her escape is cut off.  _

_ “Colovaria!”  _

_ Kenna felt a strange sensation strike her, creeping through her hair from her scalp. She could sense that something was changing and she soon got her answer when she looked down to find the tips of her hair. They are no longer their natural caramel color, but instead a deep crimson red.  _

_ Spinning on her heel, she looks back to find the ginger boy glaring at her. Despite the punishment he had given her, he does not look happy or amused. No, in fact, Kenna thinks he looks rather sullen and embarrassed himself. The slight, barely there flush of rose on his full cheeks does well to enforce this theory.  _

_ “There,” He says finally, ignoring the way his brother–who looks exactly like him in every way, she notices–tugs on the long sleeve of his robe. “I think that color looks better on you.” _

_ Now it is her turn to flush, but hers cannot be mistaken for anything other than anger. Even so, she smiles spitefully. “Why don’t I return the favor?” _

_ “Colovaria!” _

_ Without giving him time to think, she points her wand and watches as his hair begins to bleed an emerald green. She laughs at this, trying and failing to frown for good measure. “Oh I’m sorry,” she muses, the crowd they have attracted barely even registering in her mind's eye. “I suppose not everyone can pull it off.” _

_ A chorus of laughter sounds, but they pay it no mind. The boy opens his mouth to speak, but is interrupted by a mature, but loud shrill from down the corridor.  _

_ “What in Merlin’s name is going on here?” McGonagall demands, stopping short at the sight of them. She seems to wrack her brain for a moment, trying to find the right thing to say but comes up short. She truly has no words. “Well, then, Mister Weasley, Miss Alcane; Detention for both of you, and twenty points from both Slytherin and Gryffindor!” _

_ Together, they make to argue but one glare from their Professor shuts it down immediately. “Now, follow me so we can take care of…” She pauses, studying the antlers sitting atop the boy’s head and swallows. “...this.”  _

_ The boy says goodbye to his twin and the three of them walk to the Hospital Wing in silence. She refuses to meet his eye or McGonagall’s, too ashamed by her outburst to even try. Kenna had learned a while ago to control her temper and she hadn’t meant to set it off like this.  _

_ After Madam Pomfrey takes a few minutes to assess their unique situation, she is pulled aside by McGonagall for a private discussion. Kenna wonders if McGonagall plans to bestow upon them some harsher discipline.  _

_ Just as she is beginning to fall asleep, a chuckle sounds from her right. She cracks a single eye open to peer at him from beneath her thin lashes.  _

_ She bites her tongue.  _

_ He seems to sense her staring, for he stops just long enough to meet her eyes. They really are a peculiar shade of brown.  _

_ “You know,” He starts, his tone light and mischievous. “That whole fiasco back there actually wasn’t too bad. Now that I think about it, it was actually kind of fun!” _

_ Kenna doesn’t answer him.  _

_ Electing to ignore her silence, he stretches across the bed that he’s laying on to extend his hand out to her in an offer of truce. Or, perhaps more frightening, friendship. She’s not quite sure which.  _

_ “I’m Fred Weasley, it’s nice to meet you.” _

_ The name does not ring in any sort of recognition, at least not personally. Though, she’s sure she’s heard some of her housemates drop it before. She wasn’t exactly listening.  _

_ For the first time since they’ve met, he’s got a smile on his face. It’s an odd picture for sure. Thick, branch like antlers sticking out from his head of green hair that looks more like grass than actual hair, his big brown eyes wide with a mirthful wonder, and his lips curved into a smirk that seems more genuine than she would have thought possible. His hand outstretched in kindness.  _

_ It’s the kind of offer she knows she shouldn’t refuse. After all, even as an eleven year-old she can admit she may have taken it too far. Hexing him was an impulse and neither of them had really gotten hurt. It truly seemed more than fair.  _

_ But there was something in her gut like poison, rising up her spine, passing through her chest and coming to rest in the base of her throat. Sharp like a blade’s edge but flexible and heavy.  _

_ It forces the edges of her lips down into a sneer. It cracks his own smile in half and somewhere else, somewhere deep and buried and much less prideful, she feels bad. This is followed by a hearty pang in her chest that chooses to pretend didn’t happen. It almost makes her falter.  _

_ But it doesn’t.  _

_ She looks down disdainfully at his hand and flicks her eyes–shimmering with unwarranted and unadulterated resentment–back up to meet his.  _

_ “We are not friends.” _

**•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•**

Kenna always felt more comfortable in the potions classroom. The stone walls appeared darker, almost murkier. No windows could be found to shed rays of sunshine into the dimly lit room, accented only by the beating of candlelight. And while she didn’t typically appreciate sitting at group tables, she at least felt more at ease knowing it was her fellow Slytherins who sat beside her. 

Of course, it did help that potions was easily one of her favorite classes and not in the least because it was a subject in which she excelled. 

Currently, Professor Snape is finishing up his closing lecture on Invigoration Draught. Kenna, however, tunes him out. In her own humble opinion, this was a rather simple, swift potion to brew. She’d been doing it practically since third year. 

Instead, she opts for perusing through her textbook. She never feels prepared unless she is at least two chapters ahead of the class. 

Snape peers at the hourglass on his desk and makes a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Make sure you bring all the necessary materials to our next class. I will not be passing them out so the failure to do so will result in the failure of your exam. Class dismissed.”

Quickly and quietly, Kenna begins to pack up her things. She is almost entirely finished when Fred passes by her on his way to the door. 

He smiles at her smugly, for no other reason than to irritate her. A roll of her eyes ends any potential banter there and he makes his way towards the door. 

The Gryffindor gets halfway through before he is called back. 

“Mister Weasley, Miss Alcane, I’d like for you to stay back for a moment.”

For what Kenna thinks is the first time, her and Fred share a look of mutual curiosity. Though, there is a healthy dose of worry on his side, too. 

Shoving the last of her belongings into her bag, Kenna throws it over her shoulder and heads to the back of the room. She’s joined by Weasley only a moment later. 

“Professor.” Is all she says as way of greeting. This earns her a nod from Snape and a slightly incredulous look from her classmate. 

“Alcane.” He replies back, putting away a few last pieces of spare parchment. 

“What is this about, Professor?” Fred shifts a little uneasily on his spot, toying with the strap of his own bag. “I’ve got Herbology next and I was supposed to come in early to help Professor Sprout in exchange for another detention and–”

“That’s quite enough, Weasley,” Snape snaps, leering down his long hooked nose at him. “I do not have the time to pretend to care about your other grievances. As Hogwarts’ Potions Master, all I’m expected to care about are your shortcomings in  _ my _ classroom.”

Knowing better than to laugh at another student in front of Snape, Kenna bites her tongue and hopes her expression remains blank. 

Fred, on the other hand, rubs the back of his neck bashfully. “You know I love it when you talk me up, Professor.”

Snape’s brow twitches and a flicker of annoyance flashes across his dark eyes, but he continues on without pressing it. 

“I have talked it over without your Head of House and various other staff members as well as contacted both of your parents about it.”

This causes her pause. Both of their parents? What could they have to do about any of this? Why is she even here?

“We have all decided that it would be beneficial to you, Weasley, to take on a tutor…” 

No. 

_ No.  _

Her breath hitches in her throat as her face feels hot all over. It is not shame or embarrassment that pinks her cheeks, but rather something more akin to fear. Kenna thinks  _ dread _ would be the best word for it. 

It appears that Fred has come to the same realization she has and for the second time that day their eyes connect. Brown against blue. Yet this time, it is a look of horror that overcomes them both. 

“Miss Alcane,” Snape addresses, snapping her back to the cruel reality she lives in. “As one of my most gifted students, already well on your way to my NEWT level class, I am assigning you to be his tutor.”

Her hands ball into fists underneath the table. She locks her jaw. 

“Yes, Professor.”


End file.
